Now and Forever
by WriteOrLeft
Summary: Teen!Lock, Boarding school AU- Join Sherlock and his friends on their journey through adolescence, as they learn who they are, what it means to grow up, and most importantly, what friendship is. Continued from a oneshot I did. Better explanation/summary inside.


**A/N: Hello! So basically, this story was _previously_ part of a collection of Sherlolly oneshots/drabbles that I have, called _You Do Count. _I originally had it as just a oneshot, but due to popular demand I continued it, and I decided to separate it and give it it's own story. The first two chapters are still part of that collection, however I edited and changed some things before posting it here. So, technically, it isn't the same story as it was before-details were changed, and I made the two chapters into one chapter.**

**I don't want to say much, but I feel a little bit of context is necessary:**

**I've taken some liberties with this one, so this is a very very AU story. It's present-day, all characters are around 16-17, so in their 2nd last year before university. They also all attend the same boarding school and are all friends.**

**Soooooo enjoy, and thanks for reading!**

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**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing from the Sherlock universe.**

* * *

No one wants to admit it, but every school has its cliques. Call them groups, crews, circles or whatever you'd like, what it boils down to is that they are a fact of life at all schools. You have the popular people, the athletes, the geeks, the goths, the nerds, the punks, the the drama kids, the ecologists... the list goes on and on and on.

Apart from all these mostly distinguishable groups, there are the kids that don't quite fit into any one discernible clique. _These_ are the kids that don't fit in any where, and don't really talk to a lot of people, except for between themselves. They are the _also_ the coolest kids in the entire school-it's just that no one else but themselves really thinks so. But that could not matter any less, because they are fine with who they are. They're proud and don't need approval from anyone.

At this school in particular, the kids that fall into this category are a group of six best friends, who had been friends since primary school. Sherlock Holmes- the extremely intelligent one. Kinda anti-social and rude, but his friends knew he was like that, so they didn't mind. Then there was his best friend, John Watson- the peacemaker of the group, the funny and level-headed one. His on-again, off-again girlfriend was Mary Morstan- smart, bubbly and very sassy, but nonetheless kind. Then there was Molly Hooper, the quiet, shy but amazingly smart one. And Greg Lestrade, the strong, determined one. Loyal, smart and had a very sharp sense of right and wrong. And finally, there was Philip Anderson- the weird yet lovable one, who had a strange obsession with conspiracy theories.

The six of them were inseparable, having grown up together and done nearly every stupid teenager-y thing there was to do together. They knew each other inside-out and none of them had any qualms about being straight-up and honest with each other. Least of all, Sherlock who tended to not have a filter, and say the first thing that popped into his genius mind.

In fact, they knew each other so well, that it was a well-known fact that Sherlock had feelings for Molly. And everyone knew it, except for Sherlock and Molly.

Molly had had a crush on the amazing Sherlock Holmes ever since they were 7 years old. Throughout the years, her admiration for her friend had grown, but she repressed it, because she was absolutely positive that he had no interest in her at all. She tried, and failed, to make him jealous, dating a few guys here and there, (even Anderson at one point-but don't ask either of them, they'll both deny it) and ultimately gave up on love when she realized that Sherlock didn't even blink when he found out each time.

Always insecure and not very self-confident, Molly never quite liked the way she looked. She thought her mouth was too small, her hair was too dull, her nose was too pointed. She was her own biggest critic, and didn't realize all the qualities she _did_ have.

So it makes sense that she would therefore be completely oblivious to the fact that not only did Sherlock like her-so did her other good friend, Greg.

As for Sherlock, he wasn't the type to admit that he even needed _friends_ to begin with. Admitting that he had actual _feelings_ for another person was out of question for the young genius.

Their friends _tried_ to convince Sherlock that he did like Molly a few times, but he made it quite clear that he had no interest. He went along ignoring his feelings, and the girl they were for, telling himself that he had no need for her- or for anyone else.

And this is where the crucial turning point in our story occurs.

* * *

It was the end of the year, and the annual college formal was quickly approaching. Posters were everywhere, announcements were being made, tickets were being sold, and people were being asked out.

John and Mary who were currently on-again were definitely going- in fact it was Mary who officially asked John.

Anderson was going with a girl named Sally Donovan, much to the dismay of all his friends, since they didn't like her at all.

This left Sherlock, Molly, and Greg as the ones of the group who did not have plans for the formal.

"So, Greg," John asks one day at break.

It's a beautiful sunny day, with a light summery breeze, and the friends are sitting in the grass outside. Sherlock has his nose in psychology book, Molly is absent-mindedly sipping at some juice, Greg is leisurely leaning back on his arms, Mary is lying down, her head in John's lap as he plays with her hair, and Anderson is playing with some ants that had crawled onto his shoe.

"Yeah?" Greg answers.

"Any plans for formal yet?"

"Well," Greg says slowly. "Not yet… But if all goes as planned, I should by later today." He smiles to himself conspiratorially.

"Why are you smiling?" He laughs. "Who do you have in mind?"

Greg shakes his head. "Nope. Not telling until it's confirmed."

John puts his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I already know Sherlock's not going, like the idiot he is, but what about you, Molly?"

Molly looks up confusedly at the sound of her name. "Hmm?"

Sherlock snorts. "Simple question, Hooper."

"Sorry, I didn't hear it." She says quietly.

John swats his friend at the back of his head. "Ignore him. I asked if you had any plans yet. For the formal, I mean."

Molly reddens. "Oh, me? N-no. Not yet. Well, I was asked, but I told him no."

At this, Sherlock not-so discreetly puts his book down.

"Well, go on, love you can't just leave us hanging." Mary pipes up.

"Um, well. I don't know if you remember him… But it was Jim. Jim Moriarty? We dated a while back, but it didn't quite work out."

"Oh, ew." Mary screws up her face. "Good for you, he was always a complete creep. Didn't he get arrested a while ago?"

"Yeah, but he was acquitted." says Anderson.

"So you're not going at all, then?" asks Mary. "I was hoping we could go shopping for dresses together."

Molly shrugs. "It's fine, I guess. I don't mind. And I can still help you find a dress. I've never been one for dancing anyway."

"Formals are a complete waste of time and money. How on earth does a night of bad food, cheap lighting and terrible music constitute an enjoyable social experience?" Sherlock quips from behind his book, after having picked it up again.

The friends laugh. "It's more than just that, Sherly." Mary says teasingly. "It's fun, it's a celebration. A way to wind down and just be young."

"Umm... no it isn't." he replies.

John rolls his eyes. "There's just no changing him."

* * *

Greg waits outside John's classroom, tapping his foot impatiently as he wait for his friend to leave. _He texted him an entire minute ago, shouldn't he be out here by now?_

As soon as John exits, Greg pulls him to the side.

"Oi! Let go." John shrugs him off. "What's wrong? You said it was an emergency."

"I lied." Greg replies. "I wanted to ask for your advice."

John waits for him to continue.

"Okay, you know how Sherlock and Molly don't really have anything going, but it's obvious that they like each other?"

"Yes…" John says.

"Well, we both know that Sherlock will never do anything about it, right. So, what I wanted to ask was, would it be completely awful if I asked Molly to the formal? I mean, it isn't like Sherlock will, and you saw how quiet she was at lunch. It's obvious she wants to go."

John nods slowly, taking this all in. "So… You want to ask Molly to the formal, but you're not sure how Sherlock will take it."

"Basically, yeah."

John scratches his head. "Well, I suppose you could. It's hard to say what Sherlock would say, though. I don't know what his reaction would be. But, if he wanted to do something about it, he would have already, I think... Why don't you try asking him what he thinks?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Alright, I'll give that a shot. If Sherlock says no, I won't ask her, I suppose." Greg shrugs. "Anyway, thanks mate." He says, already running back down the hall.

* * *

Sherlock makes his way to his dormitory's building, struggling to balance textbooks, notebooks, and his laptop, all while fumbling to find his keys in his pocket. Just as he reaches the steps, he hears someone calling his name from behind him.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, wait up!" Greg jogs to catch up. "Lemme help you with those." He takes a few things from him.

Sherlock looks at him inquisitively, waiting for him to speak. He knows that Greg wouldn't be here if he didn't need his help with something or wanted to ask him something.

"So…" Greg starts off nervously. "How's it going?"

Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "Fine?"

Greg nods, "Good. That's-that's good."

Sherlock doesn't say anything.

"Um, well. Listen, Sherlock, I wanted to ask you something."

"I would expect nothing less."

Greg laughs, "Right. Well, you see, Sherlock the thing is... well you said you had no interest in going to the formal, yeah?"

Again, Sherlock doesn't say anything.

"So, I was just, I was wondering... if you would be opposed to the idea of me maybe asking Molly." Greg says quickly.

Sherlock blinks once. Twice. Three times, then says coldly, "Why on Earth would I care?"

Then, looking beyond Greg to someone behind him, he says, "Luke, come here."

A small red-haired boy in their year who also lives in Sherlock's dormitory approaches them.

"Take these." Sherlock deposits the things he was holding into Luke's arms, and roughly takes back what Greg was holding.

"Do whatever you want, Greg. I don't care." Sherlock says, already walking away, a confused Luke following him into their dorm.

Greg shrugs, used to his friend's strange behavior and takes his answer as approval for asking Molly. He didn't say no, and Greg knows that if SHerlock really felt strongly against it, he would have voiced his opinion- he always does.

Besides, Molly's a great girl. She doesn't deserve to be hurt or upset. She clearly wanted to go to the formal- she should get the chance.

* * *

Later that evening, like every evening, the friends walk together back to the dormitories after dinner.

However, not like every evening, Greg asks Molly to walk with him a bit behind the rest of the lot. Confused, but too polite to say no, she agrees.

John and Mary both send Greg knowing looks, Anderson doesn't even notice, and Sherlock begins walking faster.

"So," begins Greg.

"So," says Molly.

Greg scratches the back of his head, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say.

"Well, Molly. You and I have been friends for quite some time, now, right?"

"Right…" she replies.

"And well, I really appreciate our friendship, and all. I do- but, I was wondering,"

"Yes?"

Greg takes a deep breath, suddenly much more nervous than he usually is.

"I just- I think you're great. Well, more than great, I think you're awesome." He begins stuttering. "I really like you, Molly, is what I'm trying to say."

Molly stops walking. "Oh." she says.

"And, well," Greg continues standing in front of her, "I was wondering... I was wondering ifyouwouldliketogototheformalwithme." He says all in one breath.

"_Oh_." Molly repeats. "Ahem," she coughs, thanking her lucky stars that it's dark and he can't see her blushing as furiously as she must be. _How do I answer this? _"Oh. Um, well, th-thank you for asking-"

"You don't have to say yes." Greg says quickly. "I just wanted to ask. In fact, I've been meaning to ask you for a while, I even asked John if he thought Sherlock would be okay with it, and then I asked Sherlock as well, cause I know you two have a thing but then you also don't really have a _thing _thing, and I know you probably like him and haven't even thought of me that way, but, what I mean is-"

The usually quiet girls interupts the boy in front of her, "You asked Sherlock permission to ask me?"

"I-well, I- y-yeah." Greg stumbles through his words. "Is that bad? Crap, maybe I shouldn't have told you that."

"What did he say?"

"I-well, he-he said, that he didn't particularly…" Greg tries a way to put Sherlock's rude words nicely."

"Care?" Molly answers for him quietly.

Greg runs his hand through hair. "Jeez, Molls. Well- yeah. But-"

Standing up straighter, trying to look more confident than she feels, Molly Hooper says, "Well, guess what? I don't care about him either. I haven't for quite some time, now in fact." She swallows the lump that showed up in her throat. "Yeah. Yeah, for a long time. So, of course, I will gladly go the formal with you, Greg."

Greg exhales the deep breath he had been holding. "Really? You-you mean it?"

Molly nods. "Yeah." Taking Greg's hand, she starts walking again. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

John Watson was having a fantastic dream, right before he was woken up by a loud and very strange sound.

He blinks until his eyes adjust to the darkness and squints to see the red numbers of his alarm clock- **2:41 a.m.**

_Whoosh. Thump._

There- the sound that woke him up.

_Whoosh. Thump._

"Sherlock?" John croaks. "That you?"

"No. Go back to bed, John." Sherlock replies.

_Whoosh. Thump._

Grumbling as he sits up, John fumbles in the dark to find the lamp switch. "I swear to goodness, Holmes, _what_ are you doing?"

The lamp turns on and John blinks again to adjust to the light.

_Whoosh. Thump._

Then, he keeps blinking because he cannot believe what he sees.

His best friend is standing in pajamas, his hair a complete mess, each curl standing this way and that.

_This_ was a normal occurrence.

What _wasn't_ a normal occurrence was what Sherlock was _doing_.

Throwing darts. Angrily. With one hand tied behind his back. At nearly 3 o'clock in the morning.

"I didn't even know we _had_ a dartboard, Sherlock." John says, growing increasingly worried about the possibly declining sanity of his best friend. He kicks off his blanket and gets out of bed.

_Whoosh. Thump._

"We don't. This is a dream. You're dreaming. Go back to bed."

_Whoosh. Thump._

Sighing, John grabs a dart from Sherlock's hand and pushes him, directing him back to his bed.

Sherlock sits down, crossing his arms stubbornly as John stands above him, his own arms crossed as well, except in more of a parental way.

"What's wrong?" John asks.

Sherlock opens his mouth, and John almost thinks he's going to say something, but then he closes it. "Nothing. I just couldn't sleep."

He slumps into his bed, turning away from John and pulling the covers over his head. "I'm fine."

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**A/N: **

**I'm trying my best _not_ to make the characters OOC... how's it going so far?**

**Also, just a warning- not too sure where this story will go, since it was planned as only a one-shot. So I have no idea as to how long it'll be or how often I'll update it... It will also _not _feature anything above a "PG-ish" rating. I rated it "T" to be safe. I'm thinking it'll be more of a friendship-based story. The whole "Sherlolly" angle is just one part of the story, at least so far. If I continue it, it definitely won't be the only story-arc/plot-line.**

**But anywhoo, thanks for reading, and lemme know how you liked it!**

**-WriteOrLeft**


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